


all eyes on me

by infernal



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Be Careful What You Wish For, Deal with a Devil Goes Wrong, Gen, no beta we die like level one wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 00:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20573441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infernal/pseuds/infernal
Summary: A thief makes one mistake to fix another.





	all eyes on me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [This_is_My_Sock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_is_My_Sock/gifts).

It wasn't as though Dare was unaware of the dangers of dealing with devils. She was a tiefling, after all, and had spent the whole of her life dealing with the attention that brought -- which was what had driven her to this in the first place. It was hard to make it in the Thieves' Guild when the guards were only too happy to note her every move, and she had just wanted to find a way to make herself stealthier. 

Fucking Lokunn. She knew he was shady -- hells, she'd delivered him a good portion of his merchandise herself -- but she'd assumed he wasn't in the habit of selling magical items without first checking for curses. The cloak had, at first, seemed like a blessing. The guards' eyes slipped over her as easily as the shopkeepers' did, and for the first time in her life, it was no trouble to sneak a few baubles into her pocket without accusing eyes looking her way. 

Her glee had abated when she'd returned to the Guild, taken off the cloak, and realized that no one could see or hear her still. She'd screamed herself hoarse trying to get them to notice her before moving on to other tactics. The illusions she cast went unnoticed, and the scrolls of curse removal she stole from the temple had done nothing when she read them out loud. Even writing on paper was useless; gazes slipped over her words as much as they did herself. Prayer had been her second-to-last resort, but the gods were either as blind to her predicament as mortals were, or they didn't care to answer her.

Which brought her here: to a tavern, bustling despite being in the middle of nowhere. It had taken a considerable amount of research to figure out where to even go; most of the books specified only that she needed to go to a place where the roads intersected, and she had spent several nights waiting at the crossroads with ever-growing dread. But finally, she'd located this particular inn, nestled where four roads met, and if the rumors she'd overheard were true, it was the right place. 

Dare slipped in among the tavern's patrons, snagging a drink from one of the tables as she went. No one spared her a glance, of course, but for the first time in months she had the feeling of being watched. It prickled on the back of her neck, electric and dreadful, the feeling she'd always hated now combined with anticipation. 

The rumors had mentioned a trapdoor to a basement, and it was easy enough to find. If any of the patrons noticed the door by the bar flipping open on its own, they didn't care enough to follow. Dare lit her lantern and began walking down the stairs. The stairs bypassed the basement and continued on, and so did she. She descended further and further, the warmth of the tavern slipping away; her surroundings, too, seemed to fade into darkness -- or perhaps it was that the light from her lantern simply failed to permeate the encroaching shadows that rendered her darkvision useless. After what seemed like hours of walking, she felt that gaze upon her again, heard the soft fall of footsteps behind her. 

Dare came to a stop on the stairway, the light from her torch barely lighting the step below her. "A daughter of Glasya, I see," came a low, surprisingly warm voice from behind her. "I'd thought you one of my own at first, but you never did quite have the gift for slipping into the shadows, did you, Dare?" 

She shivered, shaking her head. When she gained the courage to turn, she saw, in the dim light, a huge, red-cloaked man standing a few steps above her, a rod held in his hand as casually as if it were a walking stick, though Dare could feel its residual magic from where she stood. "You know why I came here, then?"

"I take it you've found the cloak of shadows lacking? A pity, you know. Many thieves would kill to have the chance to master it. Many thieves _have_, in fact. But I suppose you're here to make a deal?" He sighed. "At least you share the blood already," he said. "It's hard to respect those who shun our kind, raise up arms against us, and then turn to us for help the moment the gods stop listening."

"I just want it to stop," she said. "This -- this is unbearable. I can't keep on like this." 

"Then you shan't," he replied.

She swallowed. "And the cost?"

"Nothing you weren't going to pay regardless," he said, reaching out. She steeled her nerves, didn't duck away when he touched her chin, tipped her head up higher to meet his gaze. He looked pleased at her mettle, and smiled charmingly. "Your soul already belonged to the Nine Hells by birthright. And I am, of course, always happy to help family." The way he said the last word made her skin crawl, but she nodded regardless.

"Go back upstairs, little one," he said. "Enjoy your party." And then he was gone, and the shadows were receding, and she stood at the bottom of the staircase in the basement of the tavern, her lantern casting far shadows into the corners of the room.

She walked back up the stairs cautiously; the trap door was still open, and she stepped out only to hear the irate voice of the barkeep. "Oi, what do you think you're doing in my basement?" he yelled, cheeks reddening with anger.

"You can see me," she said delightedly, then clapped a hand over her mouth. What a thing to say to someone who would remember it; he would think her drunk, hopefully, or crazed at worst. But she could be seen, and that was worth more than anything.

Or, at least, she thought it was -- until she noticed every eye in the tavern upon her, the patrons all staring as if she was the most interesting thing in the room, as if they couldn't look away. Something about the intensity of their gazes unnerved her, and she threw an awkward apology at the barkeep before tossing some gold his way and making her way hurriedly out of the inn. When she looked back, the patrons and barkeep both were at the windows, their stares following her as she raced down the road. 

As she walked back to the city, she noticed those on the wagons she passed turned their heads to stare until she was out of their sight, that the guards at the city gate focused all their attention on her and not the crowds of other people making their way into town. And the crowds themselves all stopped and stood still to watch her as she made her way through the streets -- at a walk, at first, until the panic their attention roused in her made her break into a run.

Dare managed to duck into an alley and out of sight, and made her way to a small nook in the sewers the Guild used as a storeroom. As she sat heavily on a crate, she noticed small pairs of eyes watching her from the corners of the room -- even the rats and spiders couldn't help but watch her. She looked up at the thankfully vacant ceiling above her and took a shaky breath as she resigned herself to never going unseen again.


End file.
